Friday, September 30, 2011

Tito Takes The Blame?: Bullshit.

I have not yet come to terms with the end of the season, and I don't really want to talk about it, but I couldn't stay silent on this.

If Tito is truly the one taking the blame for the monumental collapse, I am disgusted. Sure, he made a couple of boneheaded decisions, but HE didn't swing at bad pitches. HE didn't refuse to run out ground balls, and he sure as hell didn't misplay the balls in the field. As a matter of fact, I didn't see any of the fastballs Tito threw get slammed for home runs. I didn't see Tito walk anyone. How the hell is he taking the fall for this?

I'm pissed off. This isn't right.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Summary: Anger

My parents always taught me if I didn't have anything nice to say, I shouldn't say anything at all. Assuming that same principle applies to blogging, you have your explanation for where I've been.

I'm stressed, panicked, annoyed, and every other adjective with negative connotations you could imagine right now. But I'm trying to be nice about it. Aside from my random outbursts of swearing and idle threats of self-harm (let's face it, I'm way too selfish to ever hurt myself over a baseball team), I have been fairly composed about this embarassment of a month.

But last night.... oh man, last night was my breaking point. I can't be nice. Joshua? Of all people, Joshua has to put on that PITIFUL excuse for a pitching performance? Do the Red Sox not know that we're facing the Orioles? Because the Orioles suck and the Red Sox should know that! What the bloody hell is going on here?! It's September of 2011, boys. Not April 2011. Not September 2006, Josh! There is supposed to be hellfire and brimstone and badassery, but there is none! Instead we have crybabies, and implosions, and pathetic excuses. In the words of the late Owen Hart, enough is enough and it's time for a change! Baseball isn't working for our baseball team, so how about some pro wrestling? I want to see Stone Cold Stunners from Scutaro to anyone who dares run by him. I want piledrivers at home plate to be delivered by Varitek BEFORE the opponents swing the bat. Someone hand Ernie a steel chair and let him swing away at anyone heading up the line. Clotheslines from Munchkin at second base to anyone trying to steal. Intentional HBP's from Beckett, who, damnit! He should be allowed to do a pre-game promo that would be shown up on the Jumbotron. It's a jumbotron now. I demand it. And if the bullpen guys aren't legdropping the opposite team's outfielders at the start of every inning, they aren't doing their job! On top of all that, I want Munchkin to bring a microphone with him for every at bat. The homeplate ump should be Mean Gene Okerlund or Jerry the King Lawler, and they should ask him before EVERY AT BAT what we should expect him to do. And if he doesn't answer something along the lines of "I'll be stylin' and profilin' all around the bases tonight, Mean Gene. Wooo!" then he should be fined.

If they aren't going to play the game the right way, they should at least make it fun for me. Tag-team at-bats! When Ortiz gets tired of fouling off pitches, he can tag in Millar to do it for him! It's not like Kevin doesn't hang out at games anyway, and it would be a great plotline. Besides, we KNOW Kevin can foul off pitches like nobody's business. Then, when Papi is ready, he can tag back in. If we aren't going to get winning, then I want entertainment. Get on it, Tito. Immediately!

Oh, and Go Sox.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Red Sox Enemy #1: Daniel Bard

Dramatic and extreme? You bet. But right now, I sort of hate Daniel Bard's face, considering that he's been single handedly responsible for three Red Sox losses in the month of September. Some advice for Daniel: You throw 100 f***ing miles per hour. Stop throwing balls in the dirt, asshat! Alternately: The strike zone. Figure it out. Watching one of our best relievers come in and throw 9 balls in his first ten pitches is unbelievably aggrivating. Why? Why does this happen? Why didn't Tek stop it?

Mudpie actually pitched ok! I mean, I didn't enjoy watching him pitch, but he did well enough to leave with a lead! Also, I've got to put the blame on Francona, too. Bard's been shit this month. We're in a pennant race. When you see that he's got NOTHING, maybe it's time for a quick hook, huh? I understand that you've got to let your pitchers pitch and sometimes they have to work themselves out of their own troubles, but he literally could not pitch or field. Daniel did not show up ready to play, and if he's not focused, then I don't want him on my field while we're trying to hold the wild card.

Dwelling isn't going to do me any good. Posting while I'm still filled with irrational hate doesn't do you guys any good. Papi's out with spasms, Ernie left with a cramp (seriously, guys, time to play through a little bit of pain!), and we didn't have a baserunner for the last three innings of the game. Youkilis has been less than useless since his return, though I give him credit for playing through pain. No one on the team had more than one hit, with the majority of them going hitless. The fielding in this one was terrible on both ends, though Tek did make an amazing play at the plate. Not like it mattered, we still lost. How do you go from plating 18 runs the night before to the offensive 'performance' they put on yesterday afternoon? I don't get it. Someone tell the boys that it's July again and maybe they'll play better.

200: Finally!

Let me start by saying that everything was perfect at Fenway on Tuesday... at least in my opinion. The weather was great, the bleacher folk were wonderful, and it just FELT like it was going to be a good night. I'm glad it worked out as well as it did because I was a stressed out ball of nerves for the first five innings. Just like roughly 30,000 other people in attendance, I wanted this for Tim so badly. He's been through so much with the Sox and he's never really complained. I just wanted him to win. Those other 7,000 in attendance? Well, they were just there to drink beer and couldn't care if Tim won. But at least 30,000 of us cared.

No, it wasn't pretty. After taking a 2-0 lead, Tim pissed it away by allowing a 3-run (zero out) home run. The, after taking a 4-3 lead, Tim immediately allowed a 2-run home run that left me swearing like a sailor. Luckily, just two innings later, we took the lead for good.

I don't have the will to recount all of the 18 (18!!!!!) runs that they scored that inevitably got Timmy the win. Just know that Pretzels homered, and Munchkin homered twice in incredibly impressive fashion. After the first home run, Ryan commented 'holy shit, that Rudy kid hit a laser!' (he calls him Rudy because he's short and white, in case you didn't know). So I answered, "That's why they call him Laser Show.... the also call him Muddy Chicken, but I still haven't figured that one out."

Before long, the game started looking like Red Sox day care, with all the kids replacing the actual players. We had Anderson, Iglesias, and Lavarnway in the field and Tazawa on the mound. But it didn't matter anyway, because at the end of the game, the Sox had a 12-run lead. Twelve runs. They haven't scored twelve runs for Tim this season, never mind in a game... but I'm glad they found offense for our elder statesman.

It was amazing in the 9th, with Tazawa on the mound, hearing everyone chant "Wake-field! Wake-field! Wake-field!" It brought tears to my eyes (yes, I'm a sentimental loser and I don't care) when Wake came up those dugout stairs after the game, looking like he had been crying with his reddened nose and slightly puffy eyes. He can pretend he was showering if he wants to, but we all know he was shedding a few tears in that clubhouse. Even Ryan clapped at the video montage of Timmy's 17-year Red Sox career.... and he doesn't even like baseball. I lingered as long as I could, taking in the moment and watching the interviews and the videos and Timmy getting showered with champagne. What a night. I'm glad he could reach that milestone at home where he belongs. Boston loves you, Tim Wakefield. Congratulations!

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

My Prediction For Tonight: Sung To The Tune of "The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow" From Annie

Oh, the score will run up on Morrow
Bet your bottom dollar that B. Morrow won't have fun.
Just thinking about B. Morrow
Gives poor Wake no reason to feel sorrow.
He should feel none!
It hasn't been great
This wait
For 200.
But he'll get that win!
I'll grin
And saaaaaaaay...
We'll run up the score on Morrow
We just got to beat up on B. Morrow
For Timm-ay!
B. Morrow! B. Morrow! We'll beat you, B. Morrow!
Tim's only one win away!

Dedicated to Amy, because she's having a shitty day and I hope my dorkiness will help change that!

Greatest Red Sox Ever: Who's Your Favorite?

Have you guys seen this? is holding a bracket-style tournament that you all can vote on to determine the greatest player in Red Sox history. My guess is that Ted Williams will probably win out in the end, and I will fiercely battle anyone who may say otherwise, but some of the matchups were definitely interesting.

I went through and made my choices for all four divisions, and there was only one I was legitimately stuck on …. Tim Wakefield vs. Jon Lester. Most of the matchups, I answered based completely on my personal biases (don’t we all do that though) and therefore, Trot Nixon is absolutely winning out over Roger Clemens. Other ones like Jimmie Foxx vs. Johnny Damon (who?) were no-brainers. Bill Lee vs. Curt Schilling? I went with Schill, but that does not at all diminish my love of the Spaceman. Still, through all the matchups, I stared at the matchup of Wake and Lester…. Torn as if being forced to choose between my own children. How do you choose?

I love Wakefield. He’s been around for as long as anyone remembers. He may have actually been on the team before there was a team… the quintessential Sox player. He’s known suffering and heartbreak and has been with us through it all. But if there’s a big game on the line, between the two of them, I want Lester on the mound.

Sure, Lester doesn’t share the decades of suffering with us that Wake shares, but Lester…. He’s ours. We’ve supported him through his personal suffering. He came up through our system. He’s developed right before our very eyes into a top-tier lefty. I adore Jon Lester. Besides, he’s good. You can’t actually ask me to choose between the two.

But that’s exactly what this tournament did. They made me choose. In the end, Timmy won out for me based completely on longevity. I’m still thinking about changing my mind though. It seems like the most important decision I could make for the day, to be honest. It’s not, but it feels like it is (probably because my other decisions aren’t as much fun). I hope Jon Lester doesn’t take it personally. It’s like asking me to choose my best friend over my grandfather. Family always comes first…. And now I’m rambling. Go vote! Or don’t, it won’t impact my day.

No Excuses This Time: Manny Messed Up

I got a text around 11 last night from a former coworker telling me that Manny had been arrested. This ex-coworker knows how much I love (loved? I don't know if it's past tense yet) Manny, and he takes great joy in his downfall.

How can I continue to be a Manny apologist? I am staunchly against domestic violence of any kind and have never ever supported a pro-athlete that partook in such tasteless and unmanly behavior. I know it's sort of different, because Manny is no longer a pro-athlete and I wasn't actively supporting him anyway, but he leaves me in a tough spot. Am I capable of not letting this marr my positive memories of him? I was able to deal with the steroids, but this? This might ruin everything. I'm a little disgusted this morning.

But, at least in terms of mugshots, his is exactly what I expected it to be. I'm upset by this. I need time to process...

Monday, September 12, 2011

September Is Stupid: I Hate Losing

Quick.... someone give me one positive that came out of this weekend's series with the Rays. One thing. Anything! I can't think of anything and I'm trying to stay positive.

I know I've been busy a lot lately, and I haven't been writing as much as I want to, but what is there to write about right now? I don't want to be a constant mass of negativity, but I'm not good at putting on a happy face when my team is playing like they're looking forward to golf in October. Really, Jon Lester, what was that? I expect it from Lackey, and Miller, and even Weiland, but you? That's twice in this month already that I've wanted to rip your face off. What's going on? This is when we need you the most, and instead of stepping up, you've taken a nap. Aces need to go more than four innings. You need to give us a chance to win!

I'm not even going to start on the offense because I just had breakfast and I don't feel like throwing up violently. Which WOULD happen. Because the offense has been stupid.

Just ONE positive. One happy thing that I can hold in my brain and think, 'Hm, yes, this is fine. There's nothing wrong with this.' I'll take anything. Work with me, guys.

Tuesday, I'm going to Fenway. I'm taking my boyfriend to his first game ever. Tuesday also happens to be the day that Wakefield once again goes for win number 200. I'll be spending my evening answering silly, obnoxious questions like 'why doesn't a foul count as a hit?' or 'why don't they just go into the stand to get the ball?' and I am genuinely hoping that these silly questions are not my favorite part of the night.... but if they are, then at least I have something, I guess.

Erm.... go Sox.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Stupid Team: Does Stupid Things

Dear Red Sox:

Stop sucking. You're making me mad. (With the obvious exception of my darling Varitek) I dislike all of you. Do your jobs and win games like you did in July. Thanks. Love, me.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Three Letters: W, T, and F

You've got to be f'n kidding me, right? No, really, somebody better have staged that game, hacked into my satellite dish, and blocked me from watching the REAL game. I don't know who would have done it, and for their sake I better never find out because it WASN'T FUNNY!

This isn't April! I know it's cold and rainy like April, but it's freakin' September! Wake should have not only gotten his 200th career win a month and a damn half ago, but he should have been up to Red Sox career win #193. Damnit. Just damnit.

Seriously, universe, you're lucky I had key lime pie for breakfast. Had I not, you'd be facing one angry me right now. Angrier, actually. The delicious limey flavor cooled the anger a bit. Damn you, bullpen! Bless you, pie.

If Tim gets denied one more time, I honestly believe two things will happen: 1) My face will violently implode, 2) Ryan will be so terrified that HIS face will implode. We don't really want two imploded faces, DO WE, bullpen? No, we don't. So cut the stupid shit! I want wins, damnit, and I want them now!

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

No, No, I Still Exist: I'm Just Procrastinating

Well.... there goes my effort to start off September right. Same goes for the Sox, I guess you could say. Aside from that pummeling of the Jays last night, there hasn't been much winning. Heck, there hasn't been much of anything! No pitching, no offense, no enthusiasm, no musical numbers.... it's been sad.

And now, to top all that suck off, Beckett's hurt. Oh, sure, he'll be ok... but I was supposed to see him pitch live next week. Thanks a lot, gods of pitching rotations. You're going to make me see Lackey again, aren't you? I might have to pledge not to buy any more game tickets until Lackey is gone. I guess I'll miss Fenway for the next few years. I can always sit in Game On! and stare lovingly at that beautiful old park, but it won't be the same. Thanks for ruining everything, Mudpie.

On a completely unrelated note, has anyone else noticed that it's been... um.... fall? Last time I checked my calendar (about thirty seconds ago because it's over my computer monitor and features a lovely collage of Doug Mirabelli this month), it was September 7th. I've had to wear sweaters to work. What is going on here? I expected nice weather for at least a few more weeks! Cold makes me sad. Cold means that baseball is ending soon, and then I am left with a big, baseball-shaped hole in the center of my heart until February. I can't dwell. I need to cherish the last few weeks of the season and embrace the cold wintery playoffs. I wish it were June again.

Should I even talk about attempt number 856 for Wakefield to win his 200th game? I don't know if I should bother, it doesn't seem to bring him luck. Either way, I'll be watching and hoping but not expecting much because our offense sucks when Wake is on the mound. I say all paychecks should be directly linked to how much offensive output each player contributes for the night. You want to go 0-4, Ernie? Then you get exactly $0 for tonight. Don't spend it all in one place. Ground into another double play, Scutaro? You owe US $500. Pay up and learn to avoid DPs. It's the only way to teach them. Take away their monies if they can't get Timmy a win! I demand it!

Maybe I should have stuck to not blogging....

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Not His Best: But Still, A Win

Erm, to say that Beckett pitched well against the Yankees would be a bit of an overstatement. He was good enough to win, but not good enough to make my heart flutter like a knuckleball (not that the knuckleballs have been aflutter much lately). Sixth inning, Joshua. I feel like there needs to be at least 50% more focus involved in that inning. For future reference.

I have no idea what I'm writing about today. I don't feel like writing, but I'm trying to start September off on a good note. We won! The Jimmy Fund telethon raised over $3M! I.... didn't.... break anything? I don't know, I'm reaching here. Honestly, I'm kind of cranky and stressed out. My social life is putting a huge strain on my me-time. This weekend, I'm taking off. I don't know where to, but I'm packing up the boyfriend and we're going on a roadtrip to 'west.' So I probably won't be watching the games and I probably won't post about them. Yup. West. I don't know how far west. I guess it depends on how far we drive till I get tired. I don't want him driving my car, after all.

Tonight, I'm heading to Fenway with no tickets and hoping to get some awesome Will Call luck. After all, my boy Jonny is pitching, and there is nothing better to relieve stress than watching one of your favorite pitchers pitch live. Hopefully it'll help. If not, I'll pick up a couple of bottles of vodka on my way home from the game.

All I know is, I hope AJ Burnett is still crazy. That is all.